by Anna Sugden
He’d been giving himself a lecture about working harder and sticking to his plan of no distractions when the biggest damn distraction had walked up his parents’ path.
Today’s ridiculously dull dress was beige. Or biscuit. Or whatever the hell they called pale brown. Her short-sleeved jacket left the lightly tanned skin of her arms bare and emphasized her trim figure. Matching beige-slash-biscuit sling-backs covered her toes.
His pulse had raced faster than a player trying to beat an icing call.
He’d managed to greet her without sounding like an idiot. Then she’d turned and he’d seen them.
Buttons.
Bow-shaped buttons that begged to be undone. Starting at her knees, going up over the curve of her bottom and disappearing under her jacket. He imagined them continuing up her back, tracing her spine like a caress.
His tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth.
The journey to the first house had been torture. Her fresh, clean scent had filled the car. His gaze had slipped constantly to that tantalizing place where her skirt hitched up, showing the smooth skin above her knees. It had gotten worse as the day had progressed, not helped by the fact that she was good company. He’d enjoyed talking with her, even arguing with her.
He’d also wanted to taste those tantalizing lips.
Damn it. That kind of behavior was vintage Bad Boy and exactly what he had to cut out if he wanted to have the best season of his career. Furious, he’d tried to focus on the house-hunting. Easier said than done.
The fire in him had been raging dangerously close to out of control by the time they’d got to the last house. When she’d taken off the jacket, he’d known he was going down for the count. Even the sunken fishpond hadn’t snapped him out of it.
He’d been shocked when Maggie had flinched at his touch and lost it. Her tongue-lashing, though deserved, had surprised the hell out of him. Who knew Miss Prim had so much passion lurking beneath those drab outfits? He gritted his teeth, trying to wipe all thoughts of passion from his brain. As if he wasn’t having a hard enough time...literally.
He owed her an apology. “Maggie?”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
“I beg your pardon?” Her frosty tone made her cute English accent sharp enough to slice a puck in half.
“I’ve been a jerk.”
She lifted her head and studied him carefully, distrust in the depths of her gaze.
Why? His reputation might not be great but it didn’t warrant her lack of faith in him. Whatever other failings he had, Jake had always prided himself on being a man of his word. He didn’t let people down.
Except for Adam.
His gut twisted as images from the accident flashed through his mind. He’d tried with Adam. Not as hard as you could have. He forced the dark thoughts away.
“I’ve got stuff going on right now, and I was wrong to take out my frustrations on you.”
She said nothing, her expression hard to read.
“These next few weeks are big for me.” He explained about tonight’s practice but played down his fears, afraid if he voiced them he’d jinx himself. Instead, he focused on the challenge ahead. “All the skating I’ve done since the accident has been part of the healing process. Exercises to break down the scar tissue and tone up my leg. Drills to build my fitness levels. Now I’ll see how I hold up to training with contact.”
As if she sensed the nervousness behind his words, concern shimmered in her eyes.
“The docs have given me the green light, so physically I’m good to go.” He rubbed his thigh, feeling the ridges of scars through the denim. “But I have to be one hundred percent up here.” He tapped his temple. “I can’t afford to be hesitant or duck plays. The coach needs to believe I can deliver my A-game from day one and my teammates need to know they can rely on me to do my job.”
Her expression softened. “That’s a lot of pressure.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, too. I was unprofessional. It won’t happen again.”
Relief whisked through him. “So we’re okay.”
She paused, then nodded. “You’re not going to fire me, even after what I said?”
“You’re right—I was behaving like a child.” While he was clearing the air, he should explain the rest of it. Well, not about the buttons. “I don’t get why folks can’t tell the truth on those property sheets. We’ll find out anyway. I know what to expect now. I’ll look at tomorrow’s houses with a different mind-set.”
The wariness didn’t disappear, but she seemed less tense as she pulled up in front of his parents’ house. “I’ll see you at Mimi’s tomorrow. Will late morning be okay?”
He grinned. “Sure. I need to pick up some new equipment at nine.”
“How about eleven o’clock, then?”
“Perfect.” He opened the door. “Look forward to it.”
“Me, too.” Her soft smile sent a tiny crack through the ice that had encased his heart since Adam’s death.
As she drove off, Jake walked up the path, whistling.
Tru met him at the door. “You ready to skate?”
“Give me five to get changed and grab my stuff.”
Tru was waiting in the kitchen with the two moms when he returned. “Good day?”
“Nightmare.” Jake told them about the places he’d seen.
“It takes time to find a home.” Aunt Karina patted his arm.
“That’s what Maggie says.”
“She’s a sensible girl.” His mom nodded, her expression serious.
“Pretty as a photo, too,” Aunt Karina added.
“Picture, Mom,” Tru corrected, smiling. “Pretty as a picture,”
Aunt Karina shrugged. “Picture, photo. Is the same, no?”
“Sure.” Before either mom could expand on the subject of Maggie, Jake said, “Gotta hit the road.”
They tossed their gear in the back of Tru’s Range Rover and set off. They’d barely gone a mile before his friend asked, “How’s it going with the lovely Maggie?”
“Okay. It’s harder than I thought to find the right place.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. Have you asked her out yet?”
“Why would I do that?”
Tru quirked an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“How many more times do I have to say it? No more women.”
“Yeah, yeah. But Maggie isn’t like your other women.”
“She’s still a distraction I don’t need.” No way he was telling Tru how much of a distraction. “Besides, she looks like the type who wants a serious relationship. And she has a kid.” He stopped, not wanting to overcook his objections. “I sure as hell can’t deal with that now. Maybe next June, after we’ve won the Cup.”
His friend shook his head sadly. “You’re throwing out the baby with the bathwater.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re cutting everything but hockey out of your life. Why? Most NHL players have a life outside hockey.”
Jake glared at him.
“You can’t keep punishing yourself over the crash,” his friend said quietly. “Adam’s death wasn’t your fault. He couldn’t handle that new Porsche. There was nothing you could have done.”
The pain that sliced through Jake’s gut was as acute as if the accident had been last night, not six months ago. “That’s the point—I did nothing. I was more interested in getting to that party and the twin puck bunnies than finding out what was wrong with Adam.”
The truth was he hadn’t wanted to do anything. He’d been fed up with his friend’s volatile, irrational behavior—laughing and joking one minute and erupting angrily the next. Been annoyed that it had affected Adam’s play, making him unreliable. Instead of trying to get to the bottom
of his friend’s problems, especially when the media and the fans had been brutal about Adam’s inconsistency, Jake had ignored them, hoping they’d go away.
Some friend he’d been. And Adam had paid the price.
“You weren’t the only one. The whole team, even his roommate, had lost patience with him.” Tru punched his arm. “You aren’t in the cape-and-tights league, bro.”
Jake’s bitter laugh was humorless. “Adam’s funeral made that damn clear.”
He recalled that miserable day. Mrs. Stewart weeping over her son’s coffin. Mr. Stewart looking bewildered. Adam’s roommate, Nick, avoiding Jake, like he blamed him for Adam’s death. Those damn display boards, cataloging every year of Adam’s too-short life and every stage of his too-short hockey career. Each one a heartrending reminder of what a good man Adam had been.
And how worthless Jake was.
“There, but for the grace of God and a seat belt,” he muttered.
“You’re not giving me that crap about how it should have been you?”
“Nah. Haven’t you heard? Only the good die young.”
“Don’t turn Adam into a saint. He was human, with faults like the rest of us. He nearly killed you in that accident.”
“If it’d been me—” Jake held up a hand to forestall Tru’s objection “—what kind of tributes would I have had? Nothing to make anyone proud of me.” His chest tightened.
Tru snorted with disgust. “Can the pity party. To paraphrase Saint Adam, most guys would give a left nut to have one night in your shoes. You’re always the same—all or nothing. When you set yourself a goal, it’s impossible to get you to veer from the path.” Tru calmed his tone. “Single-minded determination is great, but not for your personal life. There has to be a middle ground.”
Jake couldn’t imagine what that would be. “Like what?”
“Ditching the parties and other wild stuff is fine, but what’s wrong with dating a nice woman?”
“I told you, it’ll be a distraction.” Despite himself, however, a hint of doubt crept into Jake’s mind.
He’d always had women skating in and out of his life like players on a shift change. Women who’d relished his lifestyle as much as he had. He’d never dated one woman steadily, let alone someone ordinary, like Maggie. How would that even work?
Tru continued, “Having a good woman in your life and in your bed is a great way to balance out the stress. Hell, if I found someone like that I’d grab her in a heartbeat.”
Jake frowned at the hint of wistfulness in his friend’s voice, but their arrival at the rink ended the conversation. As they skated drills, he mulled over Tru’s suggestion.
Would dating the right woman be so bad?
In the past, Jake would have shuddered at the thought of making a commitment. He would have been horrified at the quiet life he planned to have now.
Yet neither prospect filled him with the dread they once would have. Maybe because he knew nothing could be worse than the alternative he’d escaped. He still had a choice about how to live his life. Adam sure as hell didn’t.
He pulled up sharply, his angled skates created a showering arc of ice. Maggie was nothing like the women in his past. For sure, she wouldn’t tempt him into his old ways.
Taking a pass from Tru, Jake fired a puck at the practice net, pumping his stick in the air in celebration when he scored. Maybe he should give dating Maggie a shot.
What did he have to lose?
* * *
“HOW ARE THINGS going with Jake?”
Though Tracy’s question was, on the surface, innocent enough, Maggie fought to control a blush. “Fine.”
She focused on her notes, hoping her sister wouldn’t notice, though it was hard to avoid Tracy’s curious gaze when sitting beside her bed.
There were still two days left of the promised week of bed rest, and allowing Tracy to work for a few hours each day was the only way to stop her from going stir-crazy. Twice-daily update sessions were the only way, short of handcuffing Tracy to the bed, to keep her from going downstairs.
This morning’s review had gone smoothly. Until now.
“No more problems after that little bust up?” Tracy put aside her laptop.
“Not really.” Maggie wasn’t about to admit how much her growing attraction to Jake troubled her. No matter how many times she talked sternly to herself, one sniff of his clean, masculine scent or the warm brush of his hand against the small of her back and her pulse danced. As often as she reminded herself of how wrong he was for her, temptation would try to override her caution. Tantalizing her to relax her guard against this bad boy.
What harm could it do?
Too bloody much. Didn’t she have the physical and emotional scars to prove it? No way could Maggie consider taking that dangerous path again.
Tracy cut into her thoughts. “I sense a but.”
“The house hunt is going in circles.” Her lips twisted. “I’m letting you down.”
“It’s not your fault the right place isn’t out there. Give it a little longer. You never know when the ideal house will be listed.”
“But training camp is imminent. The Ice Cats won’t be happy if I don’t deliver on time.”
“Actually, the Cats are very pleased with how you’re managing Jake’s requirements. They’ve even asked me to take on another player, a guy they’re bringing in from the Swedish Elite League. Thanks to your efforts to bring my admin stuff up to date, too, I was able to say yes.” Tracy leaned against the pillows with a satisfied smile. “I can almost taste that retainer.”
“That’s great. Are you sure you don’t want to take over with Jake?”
“I’ll have my hands full with this Swedish guy. Bringing in an overseas player is complicated because he hasn’t got a credit history. Signing him up for basics like electricity is a nightmare. Besides, like I said, you’re doing a good job.” Tracy’s gaze sharpened. “Is Jake giving you a hard time?”
“No. He’s lived up to his promise.” She paused, then admitted, “He’s not what I expected. He’s actually pretty good company.”
“Really?” Her sister arched an eyebrow.
“He talks about something other than sports, for a start. He’s not patronizing and he doesn’t mind if my opinion differs from his. I can say what I think and he’ll listen.”
“He’s hot, too.” Tracy grinned.
“He’s a client.” Maggie kept her voice steady. “All he’s interested in is finding a house, and all I’m interested in is ensuring he’s happy with our service, so you get that contract.”
“Once that’s done, you could still have a little fun with him.”
“I had my fun and suffered for it. Worse, so did Emily.”
Though she’d fiercely protected her daughter from Lee’s physical abuse, the emotional strain had taken a toll on Emily. Maggie’s throat tightened as she recalled how her bright, bubbly daughter had grown more withdrawn every time Lee had gone on a rampage. How she’d clung to Maggie, never wanting her to be out of sight. As if she’d known he wouldn’t hit her mother if she was there. At least until that final, awful night. “I won’t let her suffer again.”
“Sweetie, I know how much you both suffered. The last thing I want is for you ever to be in that situation again.” Tracy took hold of Maggie’s hand. “But you can’t let that stop you from ever going out with another guy.”
“I won’t.” Maggie squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m just not ready yet. Even if I was, Jake’s totally the wrong guy for me.”
“There’s a wrong guy for having fun with?”
“There is for me. No more sports stars. No more rich and famous. It took a long time to learn the lesson, but I’ve learned it well.”
“I’ve never heard even a hint of anything bad about Jake. Women tend to g
ush about how wonderful he is.”
“Still, he’s not for me. He’s a hockey hard man who makes his living fighting and hitting.” She doubted anyone who displayed the cold-blooded aggression she’d seen in the video clips online—okay, so she’d done a Google search—could turn it off in other areas of his life. Lee certainly couldn’t.
No matter how much she liked Jake or how her body reacted to him, Maggie couldn’t afford to take a risk on him. Not just for her sake, but for Emily’s.
“When the time is right, I’ll start dating again. Assuming I can find the right kind of man.”
Tracy studied her carefully. “All right,” she said finally. “In the meantime, can you at least get rid of those dreary outfits?”
Maggie stiffened. “They might be plain, but they’re smart. You hardly want me in full WAG gear when I’m dealing with your clients.”
“You don’t need to dress like a dowager duchess, either.”
Though her sister was right, the comment still stung. “It’s not perfect, but it feels better than the way I used to dress.”
“You mean the way Lee insisted you dress—everything short, low cut and clinging, showing as much skin as possible and covered in bling.”
“You know, I loved it in the beginning. I had no clue how to dress, and he bought me stuff most girls dreamed of having.” Especially the naive eighteen-year-old she had been. He’d showered her with the latest fashions, the most expensive designers. The media lapped it up. “He made sure my picture was always in the press. It was all good...until I wanted to change. To be less flashy and outrageous. Less...”
Tracy sniffed derisively. “Tarty.”
Maggie half shrugged sadly. “I didn’t want to give up the designer clothes. Just find my own style, something more modest. He disagreed. And it was...easier...to give in.”
Tracy’s description of Maggie’s ex was coarse and pointed.